Oct 8, 2015

24FPS @ LFF: Der Nachtmahr

Dir:
Akiz

There
are few phrases that set my alarm bells ringing the way 'artist's
film' can. I often end up feeling they are more like misplaced
gallery pieces than anything I am interested in as cinema. Happily,
this first film by visual artist Akiz, while certainly making a
powerful visual and sonic impression and having an artistic eye, is
driven first by its characters and their experiences.

Tina
(Carolyn Genzkow) and her friends are pretty typical 17 year olds,
when they're not at school they like to party, they dance, they
experiment with drugs and they fall into and out of relationships
with each other. However, Tina has begun to believe that there is a
monster following her around, at first it seems threatening, but it
becomes clear that Tina and the monster are closely linked and her
relationship to it changes.

Der
Nachtmahr is, it must be said, based around a metaphor that it shouts
pretty loudly. The monster is a physicalisation of Tina's mental
health problems and as those problems deepen the monster becomes more
present in her life, closer to her, up until the final shot, which
implies that the monster - the illness - is now more in control than
Tina is. It's neither the deepest nor the most original of metaphors,
but it rings true and is delivered so effectively that it's hard to
mind. If you've suffered depression, the idea of it as a grey monster
that ties itself more and more to every aspect of your life will
likely ring true.

The
fact that this comes across as more than a rather facile metaphor is
down to how well drawn Akiz' screenplay is and to how well it is
matched by the performance of Carolyn Genzkow (who is 23, but whose
peculiarly striking face often looks even younger than her character
is supposed to be). A dinner table scene shows off both the script
and Genzkow's performance to great advantage. The monster is an all
but constant presence by this point, but it is shut in Tina's room as
she joins her parents (Arnd Klawitter and Julika Jenkins, both very
good) for what seems to be an important work dinner for her father.
Throughout this scene, Genzkow gives us a palpable sense of the
monster gnawing at Tina (metaphorically), as she can hear it upstairs
and imagine it scratching at the door. This is an astutely observed
depiction of how mental illness can feel in moments of pressure, and
Genzkow plays it perfectly.

In
scenes that focus on Tina at home, the surreality of the monster
(which looks a little like a foetal version of the Pale Man from
Pan's Labyrinth) is set against a roomy house that can feel both
welcoming and creepy. The solid grounding in reality only makes the
monster and its interactions with Tina more unnerving, especially in
the scene when it first reaches out and touches her hand as she dozes
in her room.

Outside
the house, with her friends, the surrealist touches are usually less
present (perhaps because, at least to begin with, Tina's illness is
dissipated somewhat when she is with her friends). In these scenes,
largely set at house parties with pounding music and neon lights, we
see why the opening captions, as well as warning of strobe lighting,
insist that the film is designed to be played loudly. Der Nachtmahr
is seldom subtle, but in these scenes it can feel outright
assaultive, but again, Akiz' choices are effective. These scenes have
a real sense of throwing you into the middle of the party with Tina
and her friends. If you wouldn't be able to hear the dialogue in that
situation, you don't hear it on the soundtrack, it's a visceral
immersion in amongst all the bodies on the dancefloor, but with
enough distance to give you a sense of the dynamic, for instance of
Tina beginning to isolate herself, even in the very first party
scene.

The
supporting cast are all fine, with and making an impression, as
Tina's best friend and sometime boyfriend respectively, and Kim
Gordon (who also consulted on and contributed to the film's
soundtrack) making a surprising cameo as Tina's English Literature
teacher. It's not really suggested by the scene, but if you wanted
you could perhaps read this as another of Tina's fantasies, she's
deep enough in her mental illness to be hallucinating a lot at this
point and hey, what cool indie kid wouldn't like Kim Gordon as their
poetry teacher?

Akiz
makes a creditable directorial début here. He knows what he wants to
say, which does sometimes result in him shouting his point, whether
with his visuals or his central metaphor. However, those images are
strong, memorable and often echo in interesting ways. One moment the
film returns to several times is that of a young woman being hit by a
car. This image is played with in time, in memory, and every time it
is revisited it's striking in a different way. For me what is
refreshing about this as a film by an artist is how much of its drive
comes through the characters, and how the images are designed to
support those people and their story, it generally tends to be the
other way round.

Some
will find Der Nachtmahr overly strident, but I've no problem with a
filmmaker communicating with clarity (in fact it's a refreshing turn
outside the mainstream). It's an engaging film on all levels, driven
by an excellent performance from Carolyn Genzkow and marking out Akiz
as a director to watch.